Consider Yourself Lucky
by DobbyRocksSocks
Summary: Everything is different. Draco isn't sure he likes it. Post war, Eighth Year!AU


**Disclaimer - I own nothing you recommend.**

 **Word Count - 844**

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 **Consider Yourself Lucky**

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Draco stared out of the window of the tower, a melancholy feeling settling over him. They'd been back at Hogwarts for a few weeks and nothing felt right.

Instead of the dungeons, the eighth years now resided in the east tower together. No more privacy with Theo and Blaise for comfort, since the large dorm now encompassed not only them, but Potter and his motley crew of Gryffindors, not to mention the returning Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs.

The younger students were still scared of him, but for far different, _worse_ , reasons now. They were too young to understand that he hadn't _chosen_ to torture or hurt them. He'd done what he'd done to protect his family.

And… Potter wasn't… Potter.

It was like there was an impenetrable bubble wrapped around him. He was quieter, more studious but also spent a lot of time just staring into space, a haunted look in his eyes.

Draco supposed he had the right, but it didn't mean Draco had to like it.

He had the childish dream of things going back to normal, back to the way they were when they were all still kids, untouched by the horror of war.

"You're thinking about Potter again."

Draco blinked, turning to see Theo watching him with a small smile on his face.

"No I'm not," he denied.

"Uh huh," Theo murmured, sitting down beside him. "You could just talk to him you know? He talks to Blaise and I with no problem."

"That would be a fun conversation," Draco snorted. "I am a racist, I despise gingers, and Mudbloods. I hate Gryffindor house, and my parents worked for the man who killed your parents. Do you want to be my friend?"

Theo chuckled but sobered quickly. "That's who you used to be. It's not who you are now. We've all changed, Draco."

"Potter has no need for more friends," Draco replied with a shrug. "He's surrounded by pandering sycophants every second of the day."

Theo nodded. "You're right. But since you wouldn't be a pandering sycophant, maybe you're exactly what he needs."

Draco was saved from replying when the door to the common room opened, with the object of their conversation walking in, followed by a crowd of the other eighth years.

Potter smiled at them, nodding his head in greeting as he passed them.

Theo greeted him cheerfully, while Draco just returned the nod. Theo turned back to Draco, raising his eyebrow.

"Think about it."

…

Half past three in the morning found Draco in the common room, lounging in one of the comfortable seats by the fire, a blanket wrapped around him.

Nightmares were common place now, for all of them, but silencing charms around beds helped. Draco was one of the unlucky few who couldn't just return to sleep when he'd finally woken up. It took him awhile to convince himself that he was safe.

A movement from the shadows of the stairs set him on edge, but he relaxed when he saw a sleep ruffled Potter stepping into the moonlight.

"Sorry," Potter murmured when he spotted Draco. "I didn't expect anyone to be up."

Draco nodded, waving to the chair beside him. "You're fine."

Potter sat down, and Draco couldn't ignore the minute trembling in the lithe figure. He conjured a second blanket, handing it over.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he offered quietly.

Potter stared at him for a moment before he accepted the blanket. "I… no. Not really."

Draco shrugged staring back into the flames.

"You've been quieter this year," Potter commented after a minute.

"So have you," Draco replied.

"Ever wish it could go back to the way it used to be? Before… before. When we were naive kids that didn't know any better."

"I thought I did," Draco admitted, looking at Potter. "But then I realise if I went back, I'd have to relive it."

Potter shuddered. "Maybe you're right. I just… how do you move forward? How does that… happen? People are on at me constantly about the future but… I don't even know what I'm going to do this weekend, never mind in a decade or so."

"I think…" Draco began slowly. "I think that if anyone deserves a minute to just be, then it's you. Tell people to concentrate on their own futures."

Potter snorted. "If only it was that easy."

Shrugging, Draco replied, "It is that easy. Take a minute to breathe, Potter. Fly. Eat cake. Blow up a cauldron."

Laughing, Potter pulled his arm from beneath the blanket and held it out to Draco.

"I'm Harry Potter, and I think we could be friends."

Draco raised his eyebrow. "My inner eleven year old says I should snub that hand," he muttered, but he took it after another second passed, smiling lightly at Harry. "Lucky for you, I've grown up a bit."

"Lucky for me, huh?" Harry teased, settling himself back underneath the blanket.

Draco sniffed haughtily. "Of course. Anyone who I count as a friend should consider themselves lucky."

Snorting, Harry rolled his eyes. "Prat."

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 **Auction Prompt** \- "I am a racist, I despise gingers, and Mudbloods. I hate Gryffindor house, and my parents work for the man who killed your parents. Do you want to be my friend?"


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